[KKM] Past Lives
Title: Past Lives
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Summary: Yuuri wants to ask Murata about his past lives.
Characters: Yuuri and Murata
Spoilers: None.
Notes: I asked telrunya to give me a prompt with a slash pairing because I felt I was writing too much het lately. She said Murata/Yuuri, and this is what it came out.
Sometimes, Murata scared Yuuri a little. Not that he thought that Murata would ever hurt him, of course not, but there was something... weird about a person who could remember all of his past lives.
Yet, it wasn't the lives what made Yuuri shudder the most; it was the deaths. It scared Yuuri enough to know he was going to die someday-he didn't think about it frequently, but still...-, so he couldn't begin to understand what it would be to remember each and every one of your deaths. Even if you knew you were going to be born once more, it had to be traumatizing to go through all of that so many times.
They said that people got used to anything eventually but, somehow, Yuuri believe that, if there was an exception to the rule, this had to be it.
Yuuri wanted to know, but he didn't dare to ask. What if he made Murata uncomfortable? What if he made Murata so angry that he would never speak to him again outside of their duties of King and Sage?
But, then again, what if Murata wanted someone to ask? Someone he could talk to about his fears? Despite everything, Murata was still human-human enough, anyway-, so he had to have some.
Murata smiled all the time, but Yuuri couldn't take out of his head that, sometimes, it was just a mask. When he thought about it, he realized that it was nearly impossible to say what was Murata actually thinking. Yuuri liked to believe he was actually happy all the time, despite the impossibility of anyone being happy every second of their lives. Specially if they had been so many of them.
“Is there something wrong, Shibuya?” Murata asked, suddenly.
“Ah? Eh, no! Nothing wrong!”
“You look so serious. Relax! Lord Von Voltaire is no-where around asking for peace, quiet, and the destruction of the little wheels of doom.”
Yuuri couldn't help but laugh; the last time they had been in Shin Makoku, Murata had insisted to take a pair of roller skates with him, and he managed to convince Yuuri to use them in the castle. Yuuri had the misfortune to lose control at some point, which led him to an unfortunate encounter with Gwendal, who, at the time, wasn't running away from Anissina, so he had the time to reprimand everyone in sight.
Also, for reasons unrelated to the incident, Wolfram had love the roller skates-although he was never going to admit it aloud.
“Besides,” Murata added, raising a finger, “this is a day far too lovely to be frowning.”
Murata was right; it was a great day, and they were lucky of not having to spend it at school, but right there, sitting down in one of the park's benches, together, just watching the sky and talking. And thinking.
“Sorry,” Yuuri said.
“No problem. What's in your mind, anyway?”
I don't know, what's in yours?
“You're frowning again, Shibuya. Whatever it is, it must be something.”
“It's... nothing important; don't worry about it.”
“Fine.” Murata's smile returned, though Yuuri thought that he had seen some sadness in his eyes before the smile. It had lasted no more than the fraction of a second, or maybe Yuuri had just been projecting his insecurities on Murata.
“Are your sure it's not something bad?” Murata asked. “We could take some stuffed puppies to Lord Von Voltaire next time, if you want to apologize properly.”
Yuuri had to snicker.
“See? It's better when you smile.”
“Is it, really?”
Murata nodded. “Yeah.”
“But what if you don't feel like smiling?”
“If you do it, you'll end up feeling like it.”
“Hm. So that's how you do it?” Yuuri asked, without realizing he had done it until the words were out of his mouth.
He regretted it; the question seemed to startle Murata. “Do what?”
“No, nothing!” Yuuri said, waving his hands in front of him. “Forget about it!”
Murata fixed his eyes on Yuuri for a moment before asking, “Shibuya, do you trust me?”
“What do you mean? Of course I trust you! You have always good advice and-”
Murata shook his head. “Not like that,” he said. “Not as your advisor. Do you trust me, Shibuya?”
Yuuri sighed deeply and looked at his hands. “It-It's just that I don't want you to get mad at me.”
Murata blinked. “Why would I ever get mad at you? Believe me, that's something you could never achieve, even if I don't want to answer whatever it is that you want to ask.”
Yuuri looked back at Murata, who was smiling again, but this time it was softer, and his eyes were warm and kind.
If I want to be trusted, then I must begin by trusting, Yuuri thought.
So he asked.
And he startled Murata once more. “No-one had asked me that one before,” he said. “So that's what you've been thinking about?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Murata said, folding his arms and looking up, at the sky, “The details on the transitions aren't quite clear, actually. Birth and death, I mean. I begin remembering stuff about the time I begin talking. About the other end,” he scratched his chin, “I think I can say it's like falling asleep. The difference is that you wake up in a different body and with less coordination. Good enough?”
“But doesn't it scare you?” Yuuri asked; now that he had begun, he found himself unable to stop the one he considered the most important question on this matter.
“No, it doesn't; it's a natural part of the cycle. But, sometimes...” Murata tilted his head. “When it happens, it's harder to say goodbye. You meet a lot of people during the course of a life, and, though you can meet them again later, you just can't go to them and tell them who you are, who you were, and what you were to each other.”
“I-I see... I'm sorry.”
“Don't be; it's not your fault. You're feeling better now?”
Yuuri nodded. “I guess. Thank you. For answering, I mean.”
“Not a problem. As I said, if I hadn't wanted to answer, I wouldn't have done it.”
Yuuri smiled. He was really feeling like it this time, now that he knew that he could ask that kind of things to Murata. And talking of which, now he had a whole world of new doubts. “Say, Murata, have we met each other before?”
“Of course we have!”
“Really? How?”
“You don't wanna know the details.”
“Yes, I want to.”
“No, you don't.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don't.”
“Were we enemies or something?”
“No, we were not enemies. Quite, quite the contrary, actually; that's all I'm going to say. And stop using those eyes against me; I'm not Lord Weller.”
“But-”
Murata stood up, bent over to put his hands on Yuuri's shoulders and looked right at his eyes. “I'll fill you in when you grow up, okay?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Murata smiled broadly and stretched his arms. “It's too hot today, don't you think so, Shibuya? Wanna go to a pool?”
Yuuri sighed in defeat. “Do you have money to buy the stuffed puppies?”
“Yup!”
“Let's go, then.”
As the walked to the public pool, Yuuri kept thinking about what Murata had said, but he couldn't make any sense out of them. It made him feel better to know that they hadn't been enemies, but...
Sometimes, Murata scared Yuuri a little. Sometimes, he scared him a lot.
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG
Summary: Yuuri wants to ask Murata about his past lives.
Characters: Yuuri and Murata
Spoilers: None.
Notes: I asked telrunya to give me a prompt with a slash pairing because I felt I was writing too much het lately. She said Murata/Yuuri, and this is what it came out.
Sometimes, Murata scared Yuuri a little. Not that he thought that Murata would ever hurt him, of course not, but there was something... weird about a person who could remember all of his past lives.
Yet, it wasn't the lives what made Yuuri shudder the most; it was the deaths. It scared Yuuri enough to know he was going to die someday-he didn't think about it frequently, but still...-, so he couldn't begin to understand what it would be to remember each and every one of your deaths. Even if you knew you were going to be born once more, it had to be traumatizing to go through all of that so many times.
They said that people got used to anything eventually but, somehow, Yuuri believe that, if there was an exception to the rule, this had to be it.
Yuuri wanted to know, but he didn't dare to ask. What if he made Murata uncomfortable? What if he made Murata so angry that he would never speak to him again outside of their duties of King and Sage?
But, then again, what if Murata wanted someone to ask? Someone he could talk to about his fears? Despite everything, Murata was still human-human enough, anyway-, so he had to have some.
Murata smiled all the time, but Yuuri couldn't take out of his head that, sometimes, it was just a mask. When he thought about it, he realized that it was nearly impossible to say what was Murata actually thinking. Yuuri liked to believe he was actually happy all the time, despite the impossibility of anyone being happy every second of their lives. Specially if they had been so many of them.
“Is there something wrong, Shibuya?” Murata asked, suddenly.
“Ah? Eh, no! Nothing wrong!”
“You look so serious. Relax! Lord Von Voltaire is no-where around asking for peace, quiet, and the destruction of the little wheels of doom.”
Yuuri couldn't help but laugh; the last time they had been in Shin Makoku, Murata had insisted to take a pair of roller skates with him, and he managed to convince Yuuri to use them in the castle. Yuuri had the misfortune to lose control at some point, which led him to an unfortunate encounter with Gwendal, who, at the time, wasn't running away from Anissina, so he had the time to reprimand everyone in sight.
Also, for reasons unrelated to the incident, Wolfram had love the roller skates-although he was never going to admit it aloud.
“Besides,” Murata added, raising a finger, “this is a day far too lovely to be frowning.”
Murata was right; it was a great day, and they were lucky of not having to spend it at school, but right there, sitting down in one of the park's benches, together, just watching the sky and talking. And thinking.
“Sorry,” Yuuri said.
“No problem. What's in your mind, anyway?”
I don't know, what's in yours?
“You're frowning again, Shibuya. Whatever it is, it must be something.”
“It's... nothing important; don't worry about it.”
“Fine.” Murata's smile returned, though Yuuri thought that he had seen some sadness in his eyes before the smile. It had lasted no more than the fraction of a second, or maybe Yuuri had just been projecting his insecurities on Murata.
“Are your sure it's not something bad?” Murata asked. “We could take some stuffed puppies to Lord Von Voltaire next time, if you want to apologize properly.”
Yuuri had to snicker.
“See? It's better when you smile.”
“Is it, really?”
Murata nodded. “Yeah.”
“But what if you don't feel like smiling?”
“If you do it, you'll end up feeling like it.”
“Hm. So that's how you do it?” Yuuri asked, without realizing he had done it until the words were out of his mouth.
He regretted it; the question seemed to startle Murata. “Do what?”
“No, nothing!” Yuuri said, waving his hands in front of him. “Forget about it!”
Murata fixed his eyes on Yuuri for a moment before asking, “Shibuya, do you trust me?”
“What do you mean? Of course I trust you! You have always good advice and-”
Murata shook his head. “Not like that,” he said. “Not as your advisor. Do you trust me, Shibuya?”
Yuuri sighed deeply and looked at his hands. “It-It's just that I don't want you to get mad at me.”
Murata blinked. “Why would I ever get mad at you? Believe me, that's something you could never achieve, even if I don't want to answer whatever it is that you want to ask.”
Yuuri looked back at Murata, who was smiling again, but this time it was softer, and his eyes were warm and kind.
If I want to be trusted, then I must begin by trusting, Yuuri thought.
So he asked.
And he startled Murata once more. “No-one had asked me that one before,” he said. “So that's what you've been thinking about?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Murata said, folding his arms and looking up, at the sky, “The details on the transitions aren't quite clear, actually. Birth and death, I mean. I begin remembering stuff about the time I begin talking. About the other end,” he scratched his chin, “I think I can say it's like falling asleep. The difference is that you wake up in a different body and with less coordination. Good enough?”
“But doesn't it scare you?” Yuuri asked; now that he had begun, he found himself unable to stop the one he considered the most important question on this matter.
“No, it doesn't; it's a natural part of the cycle. But, sometimes...” Murata tilted his head. “When it happens, it's harder to say goodbye. You meet a lot of people during the course of a life, and, though you can meet them again later, you just can't go to them and tell them who you are, who you were, and what you were to each other.”
“I-I see... I'm sorry.”
“Don't be; it's not your fault. You're feeling better now?”
Yuuri nodded. “I guess. Thank you. For answering, I mean.”
“Not a problem. As I said, if I hadn't wanted to answer, I wouldn't have done it.”
Yuuri smiled. He was really feeling like it this time, now that he knew that he could ask that kind of things to Murata. And talking of which, now he had a whole world of new doubts. “Say, Murata, have we met each other before?”
“Of course we have!”
“Really? How?”
“You don't wanna know the details.”
“Yes, I want to.”
“No, you don't.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don't.”
“Were we enemies or something?”
“No, we were not enemies. Quite, quite the contrary, actually; that's all I'm going to say. And stop using those eyes against me; I'm not Lord Weller.”
“But-”
Murata stood up, bent over to put his hands on Yuuri's shoulders and looked right at his eyes. “I'll fill you in when you grow up, okay?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Murata smiled broadly and stretched his arms. “It's too hot today, don't you think so, Shibuya? Wanna go to a pool?”
Yuuri sighed in defeat. “Do you have money to buy the stuffed puppies?”
“Yup!”
“Let's go, then.”
As the walked to the public pool, Yuuri kept thinking about what Murata had said, but he couldn't make any sense out of them. It made him feel better to know that they hadn't been enemies, but...
Sometimes, Murata scared Yuuri a little. Sometimes, he scared him a lot.